


Crowns and Chaos - a series of ficlets

by oneisforsorrow



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drabbles, Ficlets, Fluff, M/M, fics based on songs, lots of AUs, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2014-11-25
Packaged: 2018-02-23 08:40:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2541368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneisforsorrow/pseuds/oneisforsorrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mormor (and possibly some Severich) ficlets and drabbles based on prompts and headcanons from my tumblr. Lots of AUs.</p><p> </p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mr Brightside

**Author's Note:**

> Rating might go up, but only to mature. Any warnings for individual fics will be put in the notes. Prompts can be sent to my tumblr at moriartology.tumblr.com

Another one. A fucking blonde one this time, he’d seen as he’d retreated in his bedroom just as Sebastian had arrived back at the flat with her. Her high pitched squeals and laughs were completely unbearable and Jim buried his head in the pillow, duvet over his head to drown out the noise. He was sick of it, sick of all these woman, all these girls that Sebastian brought home. He would put a stop to it, but the sniper would only go and do it in hotel rooms, in alleyways, instead.

_He wasn’t jealous._

He could hear Sebastian laughing now, that low, dirty laugh of his, the kind he only used when he was about to fuck a girl senseless. Jim hated that laugh. He tiptoed out of bed, opening his bedroom door just a fraction so he could watch them. Sebastian had a cigarette in his mouth now, and then he handed placed it between the lips of the woman, who took a drag from it. Then it was discarded in the ashtray and he was back to kissing her, roughly and possessively. His hand ran across her thigh, disappearing under the fabric. Jim rolled his eyes with disgust, but kept watching as Sebastian pulled at the zip of her dress, as manicured hands roamed all over his body, giggling as she did so. He turned his head away.

_He wasn’t jealous. He wasn’t._

Deep murmurs, high pitched squeals, he couldn’t fucking take it. Jim opened his door wide, which made a loud noise as the door handle hit the wall. Both Sebastian and the girl looked up. She still had her underwear on and Sebastian was topless now. Her face was horror stricken, whether that be due to the fact that Jim had just caught them in their compromising position, or because she was considering the possibilities of the relationship he had with the man she was currently sitting on the lap of. Sebastian was expressionless, though Jim thought he could maybe see the traces of a smirk on his lips.

“Interrupting something, am I?” Jim drawled, casting his eyes over them.

“No, sir, Jane- ”

“Jessica,” the girl corrected him, a little nervously.

“Uh, yeah, Jessica was just leaving, weren’t you, sweetheart?” Sebastian smiled, pushing her off his lap.

She looked embarrassed and upset, but confused more than anything else. Hurriedly, she pulled the straps of her dress back over her shoulders, getting to her feet and slipping her high heels back on, before turning to Sebastian. “I’m never seeing you again,” she snapped, before pacing back across to the front door, which she opened then slammed on her way out.

Sebastian didn’t react, just watched her go, still smirking. Then he turned his attention back to Jim. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, were you getting jealous or something?”

Jim gritted his teeth at the pet name, the same one he had just used on the girl only moments earlier. “I’m not your sweetheart. And I wasn’t fucking jealous.”

_He wasn’t jealous. He really wasn’t._

Sebastian simply raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

“I wasn’t! Why the hell would I be jealous?” Jim spat back at him.

“Because I brought girls back here all the time before I kissed you. And it didn’t use to bother you.”

Jim glared at him, suddenly full of loathing for the man. “We weren’t going to mention that. Ever.”

“But if it’s bothering you- ”

“It’s not bothering me! I don’t give a shit that we kissed, Sebastian!”

“Jim-”

“No, shut up. I don’t want you. I don’t, so stop fucking acting like I do!”

Sebastian got to his feet and crossed the room, his smile unwavering. Jim tried to back away into his room again, but Sebastian was quicker than him. Suddenly, Jim found himself pinned back against the wall, Sebastian leaning over him, pressing against him.

“Get off me, Moran! That’s an order. I don’t want you- ”

He was silenced as Sebastian’s mouth was forced against his own and he was kissed in a deep, longing way. He wanted to push him away.

_He wasn’t jealous. He’d never been jealous. Not of any of those women._

He kissed him back, desperately, hands sliding into Sebastian’s blond locks, griping tightly. When finally he pushed him off, he narrowed his eyes at him.

“I hate you,” he growled.

Sebastian just gave him a wry smile and moved back towards him. “And I fucking love you,” he whispered, before pulling Jim back into a kiss once more.

_He wasn’t jealous. Not anymore._


	2. Market Sellers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on a headcanon I wrote about Jim and Sebastian being sellers in an indoor market.

Sebastian watches as the man talks to a customer, handing him a thick book on astronomy. He always seems to manage to sweet talk people into buying the most expensive of his items. Even the ones who seem reluctant end up taking away huge books that they obviously never realized they needed. It seems that he uses his charm and those big, brown puppy eyes to his advantage when it comes to selling.

An old woman appears in front of Sebastian, pointing out one of the medals in glass display case on the table.

“Excuse me, dear, how much is that there? Haven’t got my reading glasses so I can’t quite make out the label…”

“Twenty quid,” Sebastian replies, just after swallowing down a bite of his sandwich, which he puts down near the back of his stall. “Would you like to have a closer look?” he asks. This looks like a promising sale.

“No, no, deary, I was just wondering. You see, my husband, he had a medal like that. They all did, all the boys that went off to the war. Kept in a little box in the loft…”

Sebastian tries not to sigh. It’s certainly not the first life story he’s heard this week. He wishes that she would just move along if she’s not going to buy anything.

“He was a fine man, my Robert,” she says wistfully, giving Sebastian a small smile. “You look a bit like him. When he was young, that is.”

“Is that so?” Sebastian replies, trying his hardest not to sound annoyed.

She launches into another speech, but Sebastian isn’t listening any more. He’s caught the eye of the guy across the aisle, the one with the book stall. He’s leaning up against one of his rickety shelves, smirking at him. Sebastian smiles back.

“So do you have a sweetheart, dear?” the old woman asks and Sebastian’s attention snaps back to her. He heard the question, but had no idea what she’d been talking about prior to that.

“A sweetheart? No, I haven’t. Not at the moment.”

“Well, you’re a very handsome man, I’m sure you’ll make a girl very happy one day.”

Sebastian can’t help but laugh at that. “I doubt that. Girls aren’t really my area.”

The woman realizes what he’s implying and frowns a little. “It was very nice chatting to you, dear, but I best be on my way.”

And then she’s gone. Sebastian rolls his eyes and bookstall guy notices. Did he overhear what he just said to her?

Apparently he had. Somehow, a silent game initiates between the two of them, which involves watching the passersby, with each of them pointing people out and the other shaking or nodding their head depending on whether they found the person attractive or not.

 

—

 

Gradually, they begin to communicate more, still only with glances and hand gestures. But soon they are mouthing words at each other and Sebastian finally learns bookstall guy’s name.

“J-I-M” he mouthed one day, writing the letters in the air.

Jim. Nice, Sebastian thought.

Sebastian decided to be a little more creative and found a piece of paper, wrote his name and folded it up into a paper airplane. When there were no customers walking between their two stalls, he threw it across and it glided into the air until it landed onto Jim’s stall. He watched as Jim unfolded it and saw the little smile that quirked at the corner of his lips.

 

-

 

Sebastian is staring as Jim pulls down the shutter on his little bookstall. He’d already shut his own down five minutes earlier, so he could dash over to the other side of the market to one of the flower sellers, an old guy named Tom, who Sebastian had befriended recently and gave him a discount on the bunch of white and red roses he purchased. On the way back, Sebastian picked up two cups of coffee, having to squeeze the flowers underneath his arm so that he could carry the two paper cups.

Jim turns around to leave and Sebastian takes this as his moment to make his move.

“Jim,” he says, offering one of the coffees, which Jim takes, then pulls the flowers back into view. “I was just, uh, wondering if maybe you’d… like to grab something to eat? With me?”

Christ, he’s nervous. It only then occurs to him that he’s asking out somebody who has never actually spoken too.

Jim smiles broadly. “If you’re paying, then I’d love to.”

He’s heard Jim’s voice before, knew he was Irish, but, god, it sounds so much better when they’re close together. And he said ‘yes’.

“Alright, but I’m completely skint so it won’t be anywhere too fancy,” Sebastian chuckles, though his face goes a little red at the confession.

“I don’t mind,” Jim replies and then takes the flowers from him.

 

—

 

It’s a little while before Christmas and everything in the market is sickeningly festive. People bustle about with their shopping bags, stopping at the stalls, handing over money for gifts and tacky decorations and ugly reindeer jumpers.

“What have you got me for Christmas?” Jim asks, just as he’s putting away a few copies of his self-published book ‘ _The Dynamics of an Asteroid_ ’ onto a shelf.

“You’ll have to wait and find out,” Sebastian teases, then sees to a customer, a guy in his late fifties, who wants a pair of extra large green khaki trousers from the back of the stall. Sebastian folds them, puts them inside a bag and hands it over, taking the money.

He feels hands around his waist.

“Just one hint.”

“No way.”

“Please?”

“Nope.”

“Come on.”

“Absolutely not.”

Sebastian spins around and pulls him in close for a kiss.

They look around at their little stall; their weird mixture of books and war memorabilia. 

“Jim?”

“Mmm?”

“I love you.”

“I know you do.”

“I mean _really_ love you.”

Sebastian slides a hand up to his cheek but Jim bats it away playfully.

“Fuck off, you sentimental idiot.”

And Sebastian just rolls his eyes, kisses him and goes to handle their next customer.


	3. Sharp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mention of knives. Based on the one word prompt 'sharp' (hence the title)

It had just gone four am in the morning when Sebastian finally trudged through the door, kicking off his boots and shrugging his jacket off his shoulders. Seven hours he’d been on that damn rooftop and now he was hungry, exhausted and it had been half a day since he’d visited the bathroom. He attended to that first before venturing back out into the hallway.

All was quiet in the flat. No sounds of computer keys being pressed or the hum of the television. Just silence. Sebastian assumed that Jim was in bed, which was the place he probably spent the least amount of time in. Even Sebastian couldn’t go for the amount of time that Jim did without sleep. The man was like a machine.

Sebastian went through to the kitchen and into the fridge, picking out a half eaten sandwich that he guessed had been there for about four days. Good enough, he thought, before hungrily taking a bite out of it.

“I think you’ll find that was mine,” came a voice from behind him and Sebastian whipped around to see Jim sitting there, on top of one of the kitchen counters. Sebastian hadn’t even noticed him. Jim was twirling a rather sharp knife between his fingers, that had a beautifully carved handle and a blade that could slit a throat with the lightest of touches.

“And I’ll think you’ll find that’s _mine,_ ” Sebastian replied, gesturing towards the knife.

“Oh yes, I know, darling. So very pretty, isn’t it? You should have shown me it before...” Jim said softly, running his finger over the smooth side of the silvery blade.

“Thought you weren’t interested in stuff like that.”

“I said guns, Sebastian. No interested in guns. This, however, I like.” Jim’s voice had dropped to a murmur as he studied the knife in his hands. Then he looked up. Even in the dark Sebastian could see the glint in his eyes. Those eyes were as sharp as the blade.

“I think I’ll keep it. Never know when it might come in handy,” Jim said, his smile broad as he tucked the knife back into its special holder. But then he paused and took it back out again.

“I would so very like to test her out...”

Sebastian just said, abandoning what was a rather tasty sandwich and got up, practically dragging Jim to the bedroom, with that razor sharp knife still in hand and that razor sharp look still in his eyes.


	4. Bunny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on the one word prompt 'bunny'. Sorry, this is short and crap but hope you like it anyway.

“Boss, where did you get those?” Sebastian asked, looking up from his paper to see that Jim had suddenly acquired a pair of fake black rabbit ears, attached to a headband that was stuck in his dark hair. Everything else seemed perfectly normal about him and Jim barely acknowledged his question at first, too busy typing away on his laptop.

“I found them in your closet. One of your girlfriends must have left them,” Jim replied, not even looking up and giving a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Okay... but _why_ are you wearing them?”

“You’re asking a lot of questions today.”

“Only because you’re wearing bloody bunny ears.”

Jim glanced up to look at him, a tiny smirk playing across his lips.

“I thought you’d like them,” he said, his voice lowering as he shut down his laptop and wandered over to Sebastian’s chair. Jim crawled into his lap, skinny legs either side of Sebastian’s waist.

Sebastian knew what this meant. Jim Moriarty was in a very playful mood.


End file.
